


hold on, i still want you (come back, i still need you)

by charliebradburyismyspiritanimal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (i can't believe those are actual tags but they're so TRUE), (probably ooc), (sorta?), Alternate Season/Series 14, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Dean Winchester-centric, Emotional Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, One Shot, Protective Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-28 02:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18202460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliebradburyismyspiritanimal/pseuds/charliebradburyismyspiritanimal
Summary: “Cas, please, you’ve gotta be more careful,” Dean says, softer this time. Cas stares at him, his brows furrowed with confusion.“Dean, I don’t understand.”or, dean finally tells cas what he needs to hear.





	hold on, i still want you (come back, i still need you)

**Author's Note:**

> so, i wrote this ages ago, believed i was gonna make it into a full fic, started that, never finished, and now i'm posting this because of the recent news in the fandom, which made me fucking emotional. anyway. enjoy?

The first face Dean sees is Cas’s, his large blue eyes filled with fear. Relief flashes through them at the sign of Dean’s conciseness and Dean squints at him, his gaze unfocused and blurry.    
  
The first thing Dean says is, “What happened?” and Cas flinches visibly, before schooling his expression into something that gives Dean the impression of stone. 

“What do you remember, Dean?” he asks quietly, and Dean screws his eyes shut in an effort to think, realizing suddenly that he’s on his bed in the bunker. He opens his eyes suddenly, jolting upright into a sitting position. His body screams in protest and Cas pushes him gently back down. 

“You have three broken ribs, multiple stab wounds, and many bruises. Dean, you need to rest,” Cas informs him clinically, his voice void of emotion. Dean feels an empty pit in his stomach grow at the sound, and he finds himself unconsciously pleading for Cas to show him some feeling,  _ something _ . 

“Cas, what happened?” he repeats roughly. Cas closes his eyes, revealing vulnerability for the first time since Dean’s woken up, and when he opens them, they’re glassy with tears. 

“Dean, you said yes.” At Cas’s response, a dam breaks in his mind and a flood of memories rush in, memories of pain, and death, and destruction.  _ Oh, God. I said yes.  _

He remembers losing control of Michael, and the fear in Sam’s eyes as the archangel took full control of his body. He sees every single one of the people Michael slaughtered, the people  _ Dean  _ slaughtered. Dead eyes stared up at him, broken bodies, empty shells of people who used to be vibrant with life. He sees the places Michael demolished, the crumbling of stone and the voices of terrified people. The angels Michael collected to serve him, an awful trophy case full of the most terrible soldiers of heaven. The horrible tasks Michael ordered them to do, and how they all did it with smiles of glee on their faces. The people Michael tortured, screams of agony and pain that echoed in his ears for days. The people Michael broke, making the lowly humans into his servants, his  _ slaves _ . He remembers everything Michael did, every disgusting action, every horrifying order, every gruesome motion. He remembers it all. And most of all, he remembers that it was all him doing everything; it was his body. It was his hands that snapped people’s necks and drove knives into hearts. It was his voice that gave the orders to kill, to maim, to torture. It was his feet that kicked people’s ribs until they broke and people screamed for mercy. It was his body, his actions, his  _ fault _ . 

He doesn’t realize he’s sobbing until Cas pulls him into his arms and rubs soothing circles onto his back. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re okay.”    


Then Dean remembers how Cas and Sam and Jack and Mom and Bobby got him back and he lets out another sob. 

“You gave up your grace, you let me beat you almost half to death!” he shouts. Cas pulls back, and Dean gets a full look at his face for the first time since he came to. Cas is riddled with bruises, and blood stains his skin like ink. Cas winces. 

“I’m fine, Dean. It was the only way to get you back.” 

“Bullshit,” Dean snaps, because there  _ had  _ to have been a way for them to do it without Cas getting hurt, and Cas’s face turns cold again. 

“I have to go to Heaven, there are issues to deal with now that Michael’s incapacitated.” He stands, and Dean’s stomach drops at the thought of Cas leaving. He wants to reach out a hand to grab Cas, but his muscles refuse to lift and his arm merely lies motionless on the bed. “Goodbye, Dean.” Cas exits the room, and Dean hears him stopping to talk to Sam in the library. He can’t let Cas go. Not now. 

Straining, Dean pushes himself from the bed, his legs almost giving out as he stands up. He stumbles to the door, his arms outstretched for support as all the muscle groups in his body cry out in misery in unison. He ignores the agonizing pain and keeps pushing, forcing his body into the hallway. He uses the wall for support and makes his way slowly down the hall to the library, moving unsteadily.    
  
Sam’s not in the library when he reaches it and Cas is halfway up the steps to leave the bunker.     
  
Cas is walking away, leaving, and Dean’s heart stutters.    
  
“Cas. Cas!”    
  
Cas doesn’t turn, flinching a little at Dean’s voice.    
  
“Castiel!” Dean shouts, and Cas stops dead at the sound of his full name.    


“Cas, please,” Dean pleads, and his voice cracks on the last word. Cas flinches again, turning, and upon seeing Dean, his face crumples.    
  
“Oh, Dean,” he murmurs sadly, and Dean realizes with a start that tears are streaming down his cheeks. Cas moves towards him and unexpectedly pulls Dean into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around the hunter.    
  
“Shh, you’re okay, you’re safe, shh, everyone’s safe,” Cas whispers, Dean’s face buried in his neck. A warm feeling clouds Dean’s brain, and he pushes it away. It’s unfamiliar but he knows it, and it’s not logical. It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t...he can’t…Cas isn’t…

His mind can’t come up with a rational explanation and substitutes everything with anger instead. Suddenly he’s yelling, pushing away from Cas and scowling at him.   
  
“Why the fuck can’t you be careful? Why the hell don’t you take care of yourself?” he shouts, and Cas’s eyes widen in surprise.  
  
“Dean, what?”   
  
Dean moves forward, his hands coming up to shove Cas back. The angel staggers back, his arms coming up to protect himself, to protect himself from _Dean_. His mind screams at him to _stop, you’re hurting Cas!_ It’s like when Michael was in control. Except this time, it’s only Dean. The thought almost halts him, his hands dropping, but he keeps shouting, his mouth moving of its own accord. “You never take care of yourself! You’re a reckless, stupid, asshole! You go running off, you do whatever you want, you never think about yourself, and you’re gonna get yourself killed!” His voice builds to a scream, the last word echoing in the small room. _Killed, killed, killed_.   
  
Cas’s face hardens, the softness he was showing before gone, his eyes the only indicator of the pain he felt at Dean’s words. “Dean, I’m leaving. I told you earlier I have things to attend to in Heaven.” His voice is cold, and icy tendrils stab at Dean’s heart.   
  
Fuck.   
  
Cas turns to leave again, and Dean surges forward, ignoring the pain in his ribs, grabbing the Cas’s wrist and pulling him back.   
  
“Cas, please, you’ve gotta be more careful,” Dean says, softer this time. Cas stares at him, his brows furrowed with confusion.   
  
“Dean, I don’t understand.”   
  
_God dammit._ __  
  
“You’ve gotta take care of yourself, because,” Dean hesitates, finally realizing that he does, he can, Cas _is_. “We need you,” is all he can say, his voice heavy with emotion, trying to convey what he feels. Cas scowls, his blue eyes darkened with anger.   
  
_Shit. Not the right thing to say._ __  
  
“I know, Dean. I’m your greatest weapon and you can’t bear to lose that. I’ll be more careful,” he spits, the words like a disgusting taste in his mouth.   
  
_Not the right thing to say at all._ __  
__  
“No!” Dean cries out quickly. “No,” he repeats, more softly. “That’s not what I meant...fuck. I...fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He turns away from Cas, unable to look at his face, which is riddled with emotions Dean can’t bear. His hands tear through his hair, and he paces back and forth as best he can without actually hurting himself more, which essentially means he’s taking tiny steps left and right. He needs an outlet, his anger at himself overwhelming him. “Shit, Cas!”   
  
“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas questions, the rage gone from his voice and substituted with worry.   
  
“I can’t do fucking chick-flick moments is what’s wrong!” Dean screams unexpectedly, and then stumbles back, shocked by the ferocity of his voice. Cas’s blue eyes fill with concern.   
  
“Dean.” Cas’s voice is quieter than Dean’s ever heard. “You don’t have to. I understand.”   
  
“But you don’t! You don’t, and you never will, not unless I fucking say it!”   
  
Dean buries his face in his hands, hiding from Cas, hiding from the _world_. He hasn’t felt anything like this in ages, maybe not ever. Cas is everything, Cas _is_ the world. And he can’t even fucking tell him. Dean keeps his feelings bottled up every day of his life, the good, the bad, the terrifying. And now when he needs to convey his feelings, he can’t. He fucking can’t.  
  
Dean’s head snaps up when he feels Cas wrap him gently in his arms. Dean tenses, his body tightening.   
  
“Dean, it’s okay,” Cas whispers, “It’s okay.”  
  
At his words, Dean collapses into Cas’s embrace, letting Cas hold him, letting Cas support him, letting Cas help him.   
  
They stand there for what feels like hours, Dean clinging to Cas like a lifeline.   
  
“Cas,” Dean finally whispers, pulling back. “I’m sorry.”   
  
“Dean, it doesn’t matter.”   
  
“Yes, it does,” he bites back quickly. “It does.”   
  
Cas’s lips quirk up into a small smile, and Dean blinks back tears that he didn’t realize were there. He breathes out a sigh, then the words are spilling out of his mouth.   
  
“Cas, _we_ don’t need you.” Cas blinks at him, hurt taking over his face as he doesn’t hear the emphasis, or maybe he doesn’t understand it, but Dean keeps talking quickly, his words tripping over themselves, trying to make his point. “ _I_ need you.” The hurt disappears, but Cas stares at him in confusion.   
  
“Dean, I know, you’ve said this before.”   
  
“No, Cas! Shit,” Dean exclaims. He tugs Cas closer, gripping the collar of his trench coat, and does something he never thought he would do in his life.  
  
Cas’s lips are soft, but the kiss isn’t;  it’s an act of desperation, it’s all of Dean’s feelings for Cas, it’s something Dean knows will never happen again, and he makes it last as long as he can. When he pulls away, Cas’s eyes flutter open, and Dean meets them with his own.   
  
“ _I need you_ ,” he repeats again, his voice cracking in an effort to get the message across. Understanding flits across Cas’s face, and Dean turns away, not wanting to see the disgust that follows.   
  
“Oh,” he hears Cas say quietly. Dean starts walking slowly, his eyesight blurring with unshed tears. “Dean!” Cas shouts. It’s Cas’s turn to grab him by the wrist, turning him. All Dean sees is an expression of awe, of love, of _disbelief_.   
  
And then he’s being pulled into another kiss, a softer, chaste, languid kiss that says everything. Their lips fit together perfectly and Dean curls into Cas’s body like he’s meant to be there. Maybe he is.   
  
Cas breaks the kiss, his hands coming up to cup either side of Dean’s face. “I love you too, Dean Winchester.” Dean lets out a sob, because Cas loves _him_. He wraps his arms more tightly around Cas and presses his nose to the side of Cas’s neck, breathing in deeply. Cas presses a kiss into his hair, his arms secured around Dean.   
  
Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and the fears he knew were there but hated to acknowledge.   
  
“I love you, Cas,” he whispers, no louder than a breath of air, but Cas hears him, and tightens his grip. A protective embrace. He has Dean. Dean has him. They’re __safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> dean's pretty OOC in this, i'm not all that sure if i even like it, but i'm throwing it out there for your opinions. 
> 
> i hope y'all liked it! i thrive on comments and kudos, but this fic isn't all that worthy of those, so...


End file.
